


New Causes, New Consequences

by Elucreh



Category: Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman
Genre: College, F/F, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elucreh/pseuds/Elucreh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruno and Boots go to college. They adopt new causes. They make new friends. Some things don't change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Causes, New Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Allred University is named for the teacher I credit with having taught me to think and to fight prejudice in all its forms--it has no actual real-life equivalent so far as I know, but you can assume it's in Canada, fairly close to the Hall. Thanks, Mr. A--you saved a human soul.

It was never in question whether Bruno and Boots would wind up at the same university. Sure, Pete was in a community college in his folks' hometown and Wilbur had apprenticed to his Uncle Manny and Elmer--well, where else _could_ he have gone but some high-falutin science-heavy school where, apparently, he and his ninety-two experiments were hibernating quite happily. But Allred was a nice, mid-range college with plenty of scope for Mark's journalistic talents and Sidney's single-minded devotion to history…and it was all on one level, so at least there wouldn't be _too_ many broken bones. Larry had been known to wax poetic about the business department and internship opportunities. Chris was more of a fluke, and a lack of funding, but he shrugged--it had an art program, and there was always grad school.

The girls came along, too--their hazing into the chosen sorority was the stuff of legends. All they had to do afterward, as Diane told Boots, was shove the beds into the middle of the room and buy some queen-sized sheets. Simple.

Yes, it must be confessed--the early relationships between Scrimmage's young ladies and McDonald Hall's boys had failed to be a lifetime deal. Boots had always imagined himself marrying Cathy, and Diane marrying Bruno, and the four of them buying houses next door to one another and being torn between keeping the kids apart for their own safety and hoping they would end up together in a pleasantly Leave it to Beaver storyline. But it had all been blown to pieces the night Diane let Cathy's name slip during a make-out session with Bruno. Being Bruno, he hadn't rested until Cathy was fully aware of and returned her friend's feelings. He had, at least, asked Boots first. Boots hadn't minded.

As for Bruno, Melvin O'Neal had never been more terrified than on the day they walked away from the club fair on Allred's "Prospective Freshman" day.

By their second semester, Bruno had joined the Students Against Drunk Drivers (and arranged for every bar within an hour's drive to insist on key-confiscation before serving); the Committee to Unelect the Dean (whose wife was growing very fond of them); the Fundraiser for a New Wing on the Library (the foundations were being laid in June) and the Scots are Sexy Movement (there were kilts.) Well, he had taken on a few too many classes. Mark had kept the photographs of Boots in his sporran, and January opened with a spirited attempt at blackmail. Fortunately, Bruno had thought ahead, and the photographs of Mark with Sarah Shendell from their final year at the Hall were considered a fair exchange.

Also fortunately, Mark had been rather a slut in their seventh year. Sarah had been the tamest of them. Bruno felt that, spaced out judiciously, the pictures ought to guarantee Boots a college career free of publicly published photographs of himself in compromising situations.

By the time Boots's palpitations over that little incident had subsided, Bruno was out scouting the campus for new Causes. He had taken a lesson from his first semester, and now had a lighter class load in order to make room in his schedule for Causes without staying up until three a.m. typing essays between posters. Without any current Cause, this meant that Bruno was bored. Very bored.

A bored Bruno is as dangerous as a bored Cathy, although with more toilet-seat bombings and fewer guerilla warfare pits. To each his own.

Currently, he was wandering the student union, poking his head into various offices with "club", "committee", "union", "alliance", "commission", or "movement" on the door. Too many were busy, cheerful places, humming with activity and shouted orders, brightly colored, up-to-date pamphlets or calendars on the door.

He turned a corner on the north side of the building and found himself face-to-observation window with a door. Inside the small office, a girl was sitting with her head in her hands. She didn't, Bruno noticed, seem to be crying, or tired, or sad. He frowned a little, and peered more closely. In fact, her lips were moving, and she had a scowl on her face. Not stopping to check the sign on his left, he knocked lightly and stepped inside. "Hi…"

The girl looked up, the frown in her forehead easing slightly. "Hi…Can I help you? Were you looking for someone in particular?"

"No, I uh…I just saw you looked mad about something and I thought I'd ask if I can help? I'm good at fixing stuff that makes people mad."

The girl's eyebrows went up for a moment. "It's just…it's the whole damn world, is what it is," she bit out. "We haven't got any proper funding, two people showed up this morning, and my own damn girlfriend 'doesn't see the point.'"

"What was this morning?"

"Meeting. Weekly."

Bruno frowned, puzzled. "For what?"

"What do you mean, for what?"

"I mean…what were you going to do? Organize a fundraiser? Get a petition going?" He cocked an eyebrow scornfully. "Maybe raise awareness?"

She flushed. "We're still getting organized. A lot of people are scared to show their support for this."

"So what did you do with your two people?"

"Called it off, of course."

"No! No, no, no! Two people is a _start_, dammit, you can always do _something_. Arrange to handcuff yourselves to possibly-interested parties and drag them along next week, if nothing else. Make a poster. Plan to do crazy dances in the street until people know you're there, you've got something to say, and you're not going away until they've heard it."

A tired smile flitted across the girl's face. "I suppose you've got a lot of experience."

"We had a scale for the riots at my boarding school," he grinned. "I'm Bruno."

"Helen." They shook hands.

"Now, look, Helen, there's got to be one other person who might be interested in your cause, hasn't there?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"No buts. No excuses. Haul 'em along. I know a couple of girls who can bake well enough to provide bribes, if you need 'em. One thing I've learned on this campus is starving college students aren't much of a myth. Have you handed out flyers? Done an ad in the school paper? Guy I know can fix you right up with that…"

Half an hour later, on the way out, Bruno tossed a glance at the sign on the door. A jumble of letters scrawled across the piece of pink construction paper. He creased his forehead in concentration a moment, trying to memorize the initials and the order they came in. It would be as well to ask Cathy or Diane, the little socialites, what Cause he had espoused now.

******************************

"This is crazy, you know," Boots said conversationally, bracing his foot against the wall and shoving himself upwards.

"I ate breakfast with Cathy this morning. You had dinner with both of them during my geology study group four hours ago. And in any case we'll see them in World Civ at ten o'clock tomorrow." He paused to adjust his grip on the knotted bed sheets. "And there's this nifty little invention called a telephone, I hear…"

"Sssshhh!" Diane hissed at him. "Do you want the house mother down on our necks? Cathy and I have to live here, you know."

Boots subsided. Once he was safely inside the room, Bruno scampered up after him, and he and Cathy quickly gathered the makeshift rope back inside the windowsill.

"Not that I don't agree," the blonde added, shaking her head at Bruno. "Of all the crazy things to do--"

"Lay off him, Diane," Cathy said. "You have to admit it's fun. It's only a shame Mrs. Brunson doesn't keep a shotgun handy, for the real nostalgia."

"Thanks, I'll pass." Bruno plopped down on the bed. "So, we're on the warpath again, girls."

"Really?" Cathy perked up immediately. "Thank God. Do you know I actually started on a paper two weeks early last night? Give us something to _do_. What are we marching for now?"

"It's the…hang on, let me see if I've got it…the GBTLAF. I…er…I was kinda hoping you girls would know what it means."

Boots shot him a look.

"What?"

Boots only shook his head.

"The…GBTL…" Cathy mused. "Oh! Bruno, did you mean the GLBTAFA, by any chance?"

"Um…could be?"

"That's really excellent!" Even Diane looked excited. "We've been looking around for it for ages…how did you find it?"

"I was just wandering the SU, saw a girl looking mad. Figured anything that got her that worked up was probably worth a look-see. What does it mean?"

"Bruno," Cathy said, wearing an expression that somehow managed to combine both maternal pride and maternal patronization, "The GLBTAFA is the _Gays, Lesbians, Bisexuals, Transgendered, and Friends_ Association. Diane and I have been dying to join for ages."

Bruno rolled his eyes. "It just goes to show, doesn't it? Helen said two people showed up this morning. What does she expect? That you'll all be drawn there by the power of magnets? How can anybody show up to the meetings if nobody can even find the office? And…what is with that _name_, anyway? Oh, I'm donating to the GBLAFT this semester…I think _not_. Maybe as a sub header. But I'm thinking something snappy, with image. You all have lots of images associated with you, don't you? Rainbows and triangles and I don't know what all. We'll think of something."

"It is Helen's club, Bruno," Boots felt obliged to point out. "She'll probably want to name it herself, or at least have a little input."

"True, true," Bruno waved consideration for Helen aside impatiently. "The first thing is fliers, then, if you've been looking and haven't found, Cathy. And we'll get Mark to get us a rate on an ad in the paper…maybe run a story if we can turn it into news somehow."

"Maybe make it a stunt of some kind?" Cathy asked thoughtfully. "Commission an artist or fundraise through a performance?"

"Think about it. I'm putting Chris on posters, of course. Larry can slip the designs into the Dean's approved lit pile, no problem."

"Sounds good," Cathy nodded, approvingly. "Food?"

"As ever. I volunteered you two and your baking skills to bribe attendance, by the way."

"Sure. I've got a horseradish recipe that brought the house down at Scrimmage's."

"And the sad thing is, it's true," Diane announced, pulling a bag of cookies out of a cabinet. "Chow down, everybody."

***************************************

The next time Bruno went to see Helen, he brought Boots with him. They had a brainstorming session, which mostly consisted of Helen sitting back and watching as Boots shot down Bruno's ideas. Not that she _wanted_ the Association to be called "The Queer Sphere", but she had a feeling she couldn't possibly squash Bruno as well as Boots was. They finally settled on "Lambda Unified" as both relevant and unlikely to offend anybody.

Cathy and Diane went to work through their sorority, persuading the committee to espouse the LU as one of their charitable outreaches, and to host a dinner with the president, Helen, as guest of honor.

The story made the newspaper. Included were dates and times of meetings, office location, and the names of people who could be contacted.

The movement took off.

Within three weeks, Cathy and Diane were out of the refreshment job--potluck was more than accomplishing the bribery goal. Each meeting was attended by a fresh wave of new faces, as well as the old. Within two months, the meetings had to be divided into subcategories to discuss hot topics and plan outings.

Boots, who still attended regularly, filled Bruno in on the LU's progress. Once his work was done, Bruno had moved on to other things, but--as he told Helen when he ran into her in the cafeterias--he would always keep a special place in his heart for a club that held Cathy and Diane's interest for so long. She would grin at him and tell him to come along to the next meeting anyhow. Sometimes he did. There were always cupcakes.

*********************************

"Bruno?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"It's Helen."

"Helen! How are you? Haven't seen you around much…Boots says that you're keeping busy. Rally next week, isn't that so?"

"Yes--but I wanted to talk to you."

"Need a little help? I've got the Cafeteria Budget Committee right now, but I can always make a little time."

"Not…yeah, Bruno, if you could spare me a coffee break sometime tomorrow? After classes? I--I don't think it'll take long, I just want to--to ask you something."

"Can do. Four o'clock? Or we can make it five, Boots's class ends at four-thirty."

"No, no…Four…Four's much better."

"Okay, then. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Helen."

"Bye, Bruno." The phone clicked off, leaving Helen staring at the mouthpiece. "Sure, bring Boots along," she told it. "It's not like I'm about to tell you he's cheating on you, or anything."

**************************************

Bruno blinked at her for a moment before going off in a peal of laughter. "He's what? Don't be silly, Helen…" he stopped to wipe his eyes. "Boots could no more 'cheat on me' than he could fly."

"Bruno, I'm serious," she insisted, reaching one hand out to lie on his arm. "I didn't like to say anything…I hate getting in the middle of things like this…but I can't let you go on. I mean, at first it could have been innocent enough, but I actually saw him _kiss_ Eddie last night. This is serious, Bruno, and you have to--"

"Wait…what? You saw him _what_?"

"That's what I'm telling you. I saw him kiss Eddie Zeir after the meeting last night. And you two have some serious issues that you need to face and get through."

Bruno stared at her as she talked.

"I don't want to see either of you hurt…you're great together, and good for each other, but if he's looking elsewhere it's obvious something isn't working. I'm sure it can be saved…go home and _talk_ to him--"

"Helen. _Helen_." Bruno waited until he was sure that she was listening. "Just so we're perfectly clear here…you've seen Boots--flirting--with guys at your meetings, and then last night you saw him _kiss_ another guy?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "I'm sorry, Bruno. I hate being the one to tell you."

"Boots kissed a _guy_?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Bruno sat staring at his coffee cup for a minute. "Well."

"Bruno?" Helen was tracking his eye movements worriedly.

"Thanks, Helen. This is…this is a bit of a shock, to tell you the truth. But thank you. I'll…we'll work it out. We always do."

"If you want to talk…"

"Yeah. Thanks."

**************************************

Bruno was lounging on his bed when Boots came in from his Lit class, arms behind his head, one ankle on one knee.

Boots was tired from buzzing all over campus, and merely said, "Hey," in a weary voice as he went to collapse across his own bed.

"So I said to myself," Bruno told the ceiling in a meditative tone of voice, "I said, so Boots had a reason for going to the LU meetings besides supporting Cathy and Diane and the Cause."

Boots, lying on his stomach, one arm dangling, froze.

"So apparently he likes guys in a way that is more than just liking to punch them and play basketball with them, and in fact includes kissing them. And apparently he has found a particular guy that he likes enough to kiss in public, which means, knowing Boots, that he has probably kissed the guy in private at least twice, because if I know my Melvin he's not the type to try a first kiss in the middle of a crowd."

"Bruno…" Boots rolled over and sat up, staring at his roommate with wide, pleading eyes.

"Except, I said to myself," Bruno told the ceiling, "apparently, I don't know Melvin P. O'Neal from the fucking Prime Minister of Canada, because the Melvin I know would tell his best friend both that he was interested in guys and that he had found a particular guy. The Melvin I know would introduce me to the guy he was interested in, and probably ask what I thought of him, being as how I know him better than anybody and I have a pretty fair idea of what kind of person he ought to be dating.

"Except, maybe not. Because obviously, the Melvin I know _doesn't exist_. So for all I know, this--strange person I'm sharing a room with--had his first kiss with this guy, with any guy, and he did it in the middle of the crowd around the cupcakes at an LU meeting. Because _how the hell would I know?_"

"Bruno, stop, dammit!"

"No!" Bruno sat up abruptly, his hair wild. "I want to--do you--how could--do you know what it felt like to find out from some girl I barely know that my best friend is gay? That my best friend is _involved with someone_ I haven't even met? You want to talk the world is crumbling around us, Melvin, this friendship is the goddamn _foundation_ of my world and as far as I can tell the whole thing washed away in the night and tomorrow the Fish is going to crawl on his hands and knees in front of me and beg me to come back and run the school!"

"Bruno, listen to me--"

"I don't care if you're gay, I don't care if you're dating the whole goddamn swim team and holding orgies in the pool, and I can't _believe_ you didn't trust me enough to tell me--"

"Bruno, just…just _shut up_ for a minute, will you?"

"I may have gotten you a few dishwashing raps in my time, but I would _never_\--"

"_Stop_." Boots lunged for Bruno's bed, knocking his friend onto his back and putting one hand across his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay? I just--I needed to work it out on my own. It was about _me_, it wasn't anything I needed you involved in, I just wanted to sort it through my head on my own. I would have told you when I was ready. I was _planning_ on telling you once I thought I might have something with somebody. Eddie's nobody, I didn't even kiss him properly--whoever told you can't have been too close to us."

Bruno's eyes glared up over Boots's hand, but he didn't try to push him off. Boots relaxed a little. "I do trust you, okay? I know you'd never care what I do. I know you're my friend if I fuck guys or if I chase squirrels around Mars or if I decide jumping out of airplanes is keen."

"God, Boots," Bruno says, his lips still tickling Boots's palm. "I'll buy a goddamn parachute."

"I know." Boots sat back and took his hand away. "That's part of why I haven't told you in so long."

"…What?"

"Bruno, we've done everything together since we were eleven years old. Do you _realize_ that? Do you know that I was co-captain, co-editor, and co-chair to every crazy scheme you ever organized? Do you know that when I was on the team and you couldn't swim a stroke you spent practices in the stands and games at the edge of the water, shouting your lungs out?"

"Exactly. _Exactly_. If you were going to try something new, why the hell didn't you come to me, tell me--"

"What? Should we have tried that together, too?" Boots looked at him soberly. "And then when it turned out that I was gay, the way it did after I first kissed a guy three years ago--"

"_Three years_…?"

"And it turned out that you weren't, and then where would we be?"

"Who did you kiss three years ago? I refuse to believe anybody in Dormitory Three could keep this a secret."

Boots ducked his head and mumbled something that sounded like it started with "Diane."

"_What?_"

"Diane's big brother, okay?"

"Diane's--hang on, Diane and Cathy _know_? And they haven't said anything?"

"Cathy doesn't know."

"Cathy doesn't…never mind. It's not important right now. So you wouldn't experiment with me. Okay, I can understand that."

"You have to, Bruno. You're not the only person who's built his life on this friendship--if it got messed up--"

"Okay, okay. I get that. But why couldn't you at least _tell_ me? Didn't I build a pool when I couldn't swim? Did you ever see me shrink from cheering you on?"

Boots's eyes flickered away. "It's…it's complicated, Bruno. I didn't…I wanted to make sure of it on my own. I wanted it separate from you before I told you--"

"Hold on. Just---hold on. _Separate_ from me? Was I involved? Was I--were you--are you _attracted_ to me? Am I--"

"Oh, God." Boots began to scramble off his friend, but Bruno held him firmly. "I swear, Bruno, it doesn't--"

Bruno sat up, trapping his roommate between his knees and his chest. "Thank God." He seized Boots by the chin and pulled his mouth up, wrapping his own lips around it. For a long, long moment, Boots sat frozen under him. Slowly, slowly, he relaxed into the kiss, leaning into it a little, tilting his head for a better angle, reaching up to tangle one hand in Bruno's hair. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and touched the tip of his tongue to Bruno's lower lip. Bruno flinched.

"I'm sorry," Boots said, instantly, trying to back off. "I thought--"

"No--no, it's…it's good, it's just--" Bruno broke off, shaking his head. "I have no fucking _clue_ what I'm doing here."

Boots laughed shakily. "Finally found something I can take the lead in, huh?"

Bruno's chuckle was equally hoarse. "Yeah. But I'll follow. God, will I follow. Boots…" he leaned up again, pleading with eyes and lips, and Boots leaned down, sliding his fingers into the straight brown locks, pulling him home.


End file.
